


mayflowers

by zanykingmentality



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, First Kiss, Mutual Pining, Some Explicit Language, Study Date, some greek mythology mentions bc i'm a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanykingmentality/pseuds/zanykingmentality
Summary: When she looks at Luka, the world stops spinning. With every word he speaks, Marinette can feel her heart clenching in her chest. He is, for all intents and purposes, the person she trusts the most.Marinette has no idea what that means.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 13
Kudos: 89





	mayflowers

**Author's Note:**

> hi i haven't watched any ml since silencer cuz luka is my favorite character and i know they are gonna hurt him. anyway here's marinette swooning over luka and generally being oblivious. unbeta-d, but spellchecked, so please forgive any lingering errors~ enjoy!

There are two things Marinette knows for sure. 

Number one, that she is utterly and wholly oblivious to any advances anyone makes towards her.

Number two, that despite this, she somehow knows that Luka Couffaine is flirting with her. Or, at least, she's pretty sure.

She’d like to take credit for realizing this, but it really only came to her after late-night panic texting Alya about school and crushes. Marinette had been crying about some forever-alone bullshit when Alya, in her ever-endearing straightforwardness, said something along the lines of _don’t you and luka have a thing going on lol._

Now, Marinette shouldn’t really care all that much about who’s flirting with her. Ever since she finally managed to get over her obsessive stalker crush on Adrien, she hasn’t really been thinking about it all that much. But she’s already a college freshman, and most storybook heroines meet the loves of their lives somewhere in high school. Is she getting old? 

Anyway, Alya was usually right about this kind of thing. She had an eye for social cues. So if Alya says Luka’s interested… isn’t he? 

But then, Marinette doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. She knows all too well what it’s like to not be on the same page. And yet, somehow, the way Luka looks at her — there’s _something_ in there. This shouldn’t bother Marinette as much as it does — she doesn’t really know _how_ she feels about him, just that she feels _something_ about him — but now it’s all she’s thinking about. Luka and his hair and his mouth and his fingers —

“You alright?” Luka’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts. (Of him.) 

Marinette jumps in her seat. “What? Yeah! I’m fine!” 

Luka looks at her with that capital-L Look again, an amused smile on his pretty pink lips. Marinette finds her gaze drawn there subconsciously, like there’s something fascinating and enigmatic about them. And there’s something that swells in her chest, like a balloon close to bursting, something that demands attention and the pinprick of a needle. 

“Hm.” His smile is mysterious. Beautiful. Marinette once again stifles the urge to lurch forward and press her mouth to his. “You’ve been spacing out lately.” His face is dangerously close to hers. 

“Have I?” Marinette feels like an unwound tape recorder, which is probably the first time anyone’s thought about tape recorders in _years._

“Yeah,” says Luka. His smile is entrancing. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

And _oh,_ it’s the way he says that — it makes Marinette want to curl up with those words and hold them tight. As if she can grip that affectionate lilt in his voice and keep it close to her heart. For a moment, she forgets to breathe. 

She notices she’s staring. Marinette looks away quickly. “Nothing!” she says. 

Luka hums noncommittally, a _hm_ sound from both his throat and his nose. He taps his fingers on the tabletop in a beat known only to himself. Marinette watches his hands in lieu of his face — his beautiful, beautiful face. 

Really, she shouldn’t be feeling like — like _this._ Like the seams of her body are close to bursting, like sunlight filters through the space between the atoms in her. It’s similar to and totally different from everything and anything she’s felt before, an oxymoron waiting to be unwrapped. 

Marinette looks back over at Luka out of the corner of her eye. “Are you sure I’m not bothering you?” she asks. The book in front of her has been long forgotten. Luka’s eyes soften like he’s also thinking of how this is the perfect place to sneak a kiss — a table tucked away far into the library, hidden from prying eyes and knowing looks. Because anyone that passes by can tell that there’s _something_ going on here. 

Well. Everyone except Marinette, for the most part. She’s still trying to figure out if it’s true that Luka’s flirting with her. Which brings her back to point one: _oblivious._

“You’re never a bother to me,” he says. 

If Marinette had any doubt about what she felt for Luka, this is the moment that it is no longer an issue. _Oblivious,_ especially to her own feelings. 

Marinette looks back at her book. A picture of Orpheus playing his way to the Underworld. Persephone, holding her hands out. The ghostly apparition of Eurydice. 

“I’ve never liked this story,” she blurts. Luka’s gaze slides languidly from her face to the page. 

“Orpheus and Eurydice,” he muses. “They’re a classic Greek tragedy.” 

“It makes me sad,” Marinette says. 

“Then why’d you pick it?” 

He’s referring, of course, to a project Marinette has to do for class. The premise is to create a four-panel design that expresses the themes in a classical story. Marinette had pored over Greek tragedy after Greek tragedy before finally coming upon Orpheus’s story. 

“I don’t know,” she says. She runs her finger over the drawn stairs. “It spoke to me.” 

Luka hums in agreement. He knows exactly what she’s talking about. It’s the same way for him and music. A tune that sticks in the back of his head. 

After a moment of silence, Marinette says, “I like the idea of love that transcends death.” 

Luka cocks his head. “How so?” 

“Just that… the idea that you will be missed enough, or irreplaceable enough, for going to the Underworld to be worth it. You wouldn’t do that for just anybody.” 

Resting his cheek in his palm, Luka casually says, “I would do it for you.” 

Marinette starts. “What?” 

“I would go down to the Underworld if it would mean I could have you back,” Luka says. 

Marinette’s head spins. Is _this_ flirting? Is _this_ Luka flirting with her? Every inch of her skin feels hot and flushed. 

“I would, too,” she manages. “For you.” 

Luka laughs. “You don’t have to,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

That’s enough to give Marinette a heart attack. What?? the hell?? is going on?????? 

“Luka,” she says. “Are you flirting with me?” 

Luka’s smile drops, his face carefully controlled. “Sorry, was it too much?” There is a slight tremor in his voice. “I can stop.” 

“No!” Marinette stands up abruptly, slamming her hands on the table. Luka doesn’t flinch. Embarrassed, Marinette sinks back into her chair. “Sorry. I, um. I mean, it’s not too much.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” says Marinette. “I’m sure. Because…” When she looks up at his blue-blue eyes, she trails off. Luka doesn’t prompt her to speak, only looks back at her, his eyes darting down once or twice. Marinette takes that as a good sign. 

She leans forward and kisses him. 

Before Luka can even think about reciprocating, she peels back, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. (Luka’s mouth was there _not even a second ago—_ )

“Sorry!” she squeaks. “I’m not that impulsive I swear, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable—”

In response, Luka grips her forearms and presses his mouth to hers. 

For a moment, Marinette just blinks. Her heart stutters wildly, battering against her ribs. Then she folds into it, fists her hands into the collar of Luka’s shirt, opens her mouth just a fraction. One of Luka’s hands comes up to rest on her cheek, and Marinette can feel the cool metal of his ring against her flushed skin. She thinks she could drown in this, just Luka’s mouth and his hands and his eyes. 

Luka pulls a breath away, a thin sliver of air separating them. He leans his forehead against Marinette’s and smiles. 

“I like you, Marinette,” he says. “A lot.” 

“So you _have_ been flirting with me,” Marinette accuses, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Luka grins, and kisses her again. 

(The flowers bloom the next morning.) 

**Author's Note:**

> *on the phone* mr couffaine sir will you please stomp on my heart


End file.
